


One, Two, Three, Repeat

by mnwood



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Croatoan/Endverse, Drug Addiction, Episode: s05e04 The End, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Human Castiel, M/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-08
Updated: 2014-04-08
Packaged: 2018-01-18 14:52:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1432540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mnwood/pseuds/mnwood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas and Dean have spent the last five years surviving the end of the world by relying on one another for support. However, when a 2009 version of Dean shows up at Camp Chitaqua, his confusion about their relationship reveals that something in the timeline has been changed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: there's a lot of drugs and alcohol abused in this fic by both Dean (just alcohol) and Cas.

**2014\. Camp Chitaqua.**

One, two, three. 

One, two, three.

Three, two, three.

Three, two, three.

Two, two, three. 

Three, two, one.

One, two, three.

“Uh, Dean? You asleep?”

“No, Chuck, come on in.”

“I was, um, I was wondering if you wanted to go with us on a supply run in the morning? We’re running low on some stuff and—” 

“Who’s going?”

“Me, Janelle, Tariq, Mike—”

“OK, good, you’ve got some people who know their way around a weapon. You don’t need me, you’ll be fine.”

Chuck nods and turns to leave.

“Oh hey, uh, if you happen to drive by a liquor store…?”

“Sure thing, boss,” Chuck calls over his shoulder.

One, two, three.

Three, two, three.

Two, three, two. 

Dean can’t sleep. He taps three of his fingers in a steady pattern, realizing two years ago that it’s the only way he can fall asleep. Paired with alcohol, of course.

Two, three, two.

One, one, two.

It’s the only thing he allows in his mind anymore when he’s alone. And the only time he’s alone is when he’s trying to sleep. He kicks girls out of his bed as soon as their eyes start to droop. At this point, everyone in the camp knows the rules about Dean Winchester.

Dean Winchester always sleeps alone.

Dean Winchester must always be consulted before decision-making.

Dean Winchester will not tolerate any variety of the question “are you OK?”

Dean Winchester does not participate in any leisure activities with the exception of casual sex. 

Dean Winchester is not afraid to throw you to the Croats if you so much as think the words “Sam” or “Bobby” or “Ellen” or “Jo.” 

Dean Winchester does not want to hear any news from Cas’ cabin unless it’s life or death.

One, two, three.

Three, two, one…

 

 

Water, mix, filter, draw up, shoot.

“Baby, come back to bed.”

“Just a minute, sweetheart, you know the rules.”

“I need you _now_. I want you to fuck my mouth upside down like last time.”

“Jesus, gimme a minute. I promise I want to do that, too.”

Cas never sleeps alone.

There’s no more than two women in the camp who _haven’t_ joined Cas in bed. About a quarter of the men have participated as well. (Cas would’ve slept with more of them if they were all open to the idea. Being genderless for most of his existence basically threw sexuality out the window.)

Cas can’t fall asleep without a warm body next to his. Accompanied by heroin. He became addicted to a number of things (sex, drugs, alcohol) soon after his grace was wrenched from him by heaven itself. Apparently his orders had changed since he pulled the righteous man out of hell, but he never got the memo to stop trusting and obeying Dean Winchester and following his lead no matter the cost. When Dean rejected heaven, heaven rejected Cas.

Thrust, moan, grab, come. 

There are things about Cas that everybody just chooses to accept (or ignore). 

Cas never sleeps alone.

Cas is not, nor was he ever, Castiel: angel of the Lord.

Cas is the only one with access to drugs, and he does not share.

Cas is never— _never_ —sober.

Cas chooses who he wants, and he is always the pursuer, the first to make contact.

Cas does not respond to the question “did you really save Dean from hell?” or any related thereof.

Pour, drink, repeat until black out.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Cas enjoys punishment.

**2010\. Just outside Detroit.**

Cas would have felt his power begin to fade, his grace begin to dissipate, if he wasn’t distracted by Dean.

Dean, who no matter how much he drinks, cannot seem to pass out and numb the pain. Dean is curled up in the backseat of the Impala, clutching a bottle of whiskey in one hand and his necklace in the other. He hasn’t stopped crying in hours. Silent, inconsistent tears that scream worlds of unimaginable pain.

Cas stands outside the Impala, guarding his charge. He knows not to try to talk to Dean, not to even look at Dean. He knows what Dean needs right now. He always knows, and he always provides.

“Hey.” 

“Yes, Dean?” Cas responds without turning.

“Can you…come sit with me?”

“Of course.” 

Dean opens the door and slides over to let Cas in. They sit in silence for several minutes.

Finally Dean asks, “Do you think my brother’s still in there?”

“I don’t know. But…I somewhat hope he is not.” 

Dean nods. “I wish I could save him. I wish I had—I had been there for him. I should have never let him leave, I should have—I should have—”

Cas places his hand on Dean’s knee while the man sobs a bit louder this time.

“Cas…”

“Yes, Dean?”

“Please don’t leave me.”

 

**2014\. Camp Chitaqua.**

“Jane.”

“Mmm yeah, she’s great. Very experimental. What about Risa?”

“Oh god yes. The noises she makes when she’s being eaten out, man.” 

“Huh. I’ve never tried it. Valeria.” 

“Wait, hold on, Cas. You’ve never eaten Risa out?”

“I’m not a huge fan of putting my face near vaginas.” 

“You? Not a fan of something sex-related? Wow.”

“Yeah, well, I have my downfalls.”

“What about sucking dick?”

“That—I am perfectly happy to do.” Cas turns his face in time to see Dean swallow thickly. “So Valeria.”

“She’s like the tiniest girl I’ve ever fucked. At first I thought I might break her, but she’s strong as hell. God, what a night _that_ was. Chris.” 

“No, Dean, we’re talking about people we’ve _both_ fucked so unless there’s something you want to tell me...”

“No, no, you’re right. I’m just…curious is all. Um, Penelope.”

“That woman didn’t let me have an orgasm one night. Best sex of my life.”

“What? Are you serious?” 

“Yeah, man. She brought a whip. A literal whip. Sucked me off then pulled off right before climax, told me to hold it. Pushed me to my hands and knees, made me suck her fingers, shoved two in without warning, quickly replaced them with a dildo and walked right out the door. Told me to stay put and never came back.”

“I don’t believe you. She was gentle and pliant with me, dude.”

“This was recent. I still have the marks to prove it.”

Dean suddenly looks hungry, like he wants nothing more than to see the proof.

Cas turns over and lifts his shirt over his head. He smiles a small, genuine smile that only Dean can pull out of him when he hears the gasp from behind him.

“Are you OK, dude?” Dean asks while his fingertips trace the red stripes.

“Of course. You know me, always ready to take some punishment.”

It dawns on Dean that Cas received punishment right where his wings used to be. His palm flattens and stops against Cas’ spine.

“Uh, Dean?”

“Yeah, sorry, um. You can put your shirt back on,” Dean says quickly as he removes his hand and lies on his back again.

Cas doesn’t. He rolls over and curls up, facing Dean. “Janelle.” 

“Best blow jobs in this whole fucking camp.”

Cas scoffs.

“What?”

“You’re just saying that because you’ve never had one of mine.”

Dean blinks like seventeen times.

“I’m too sober for this right now. You want anything?” Cas responds as he makes his way over to his stash.

“Uh, I think I’ll just go. Sun’s about to come up anyway. I might come back tomorrow,” Dean says as he stumbles out of the cabin.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Dean blinks like seventeen times" is hands down the best sentence I've ever written in my entire life.


	3. Chapter 3

**2011\. Lawrence, Kansas.**

“Do you hear me? You sons of bitches, why aren’t you listening? I’m here! I’m saying yes! Yes. Yes! C’mon, you fucking bastards! Take me! Yes! Listen to me! Yes.”

Cas fought with Dean about going back to Lawrence for two months before he broke and gave up trying to stop the man. Dean sat at his mother’s grave, not speaking or moving, for two days straight. Cas thought he might want to make a memorial for Sam, but he didn’t. His shouts at heaven were the first time he had used his voice properly in a week.

Cas lets Dean shout until the sun goes down and his voice starts to sound hoarse. He finds his charge on his knees with his shoulders slumped. He walks over and squats next to the man, places a hand on his back.

“Where is everybody, Cas?”

“Heaven might be shut down, Dean. But…I still believe you can win this. Don’t lose hope, not yet.” 

“I’m so tired, Cas.” 

“You can rest. I’m here.”

“Why…why do you stick around?”

Cas instinctively begins rubbing circles into Dean’s back. “Somebody has to.” _For you, Dean. I stick around for you, you idiot. I wouldn’t spend the end of the world with anyone else._

Dean laughs mirthlessly. “That’s reassuring.”

“Hey.”

Dean turns to meet Cas’ eyes.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Cas promises.

  

**2013\. Ohio. Camp Chitaqua.**

“Cas? Cas! I swear to God, Cas, if you’re dead—”

“Not dead. Don’t worry about me, Dean.”

“Damn it, Cas, what did you do?” Dean sprints toward the sound of his friend’s voice and finds him sprawled in the middle of an empty hallway.

“I think it’s broken. My foot. It feels—ow—yeah, it feels broken.” Cas begins to laugh hysterically. God, Dean told him a hundred times to stop getting so wasted before raids.

“Come here, you fucking moron,” Dean mutters as he throws Cas’ arm over his shoulder and gets both his hands underneath him to pick him up. “Geez, man, do you ever eat? You weigh about a hundred pounds.” 

“One-fifty-nine, thanks. Where’s everybody else?” Cas curls into Dean’s body as Dean runs through the building to find an exit. 

“Gone. No casualties, didn’t find the gun. I had no idea where you were, Cas.”

“Sorry, I forgot the route. A loose board dropped on me and I went down.” 

“Jesus Christ,” Dean breathes.

“Dean,” Cas pleads once they’ve reached the trucks. 

“What?”

“Lemme be in your truck.”

“Fine, you big baby.”

Dean gives Cas some painkillers and tries to talk to him on the long drive back. The angel eventually passes out, and Dean’s left with his thoughts. 

He almost lost Cas today.

He can’t let that happen again. 

He can’t do this without Cas.

 

“Hey, buddy. Cas, wake up.”

“Mmmm, no.”

“Cas? Cas. You need to eat. C’mon, I made you soup. Built a fire to cook it and everything.”

“M’foot.”

“Your foot’s OK. I mean, it’s not. It’s broken, but it’s healing. You’ve been out for 14 hours. You really need to eat.”

“Hero—heroin first.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “No. Food first. You’ve had plenty of medication, you’re not going through withdrawal anytime soon.”

Cas sighs dramatically but eventually pulls himself up to a sitting position (with Dean’s help). Dean feeds him the soup slowly. 

“I’m useless,” Cas says in between spoonfuls.

“You’re human.”

“Yeah, powerless. Why do you even keep me around?”

Dean is not in the mood. “You want me to leave you for the Croats? Let you die an honorable death or whatever?”

“I just want to be an angel again.”

“You _are_ an angel, you dumbass.”

“You just said I was human.”

“Isn’t there something in your Bible about Jesus being both God and man? You can’t just forget all the years you spent as an angel, Castiel.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“What should I call you instead? Hippie? Pothead? Addict? Love guru? Which do you prefer?”

“I’d prefer you not label me. I’m just…Cas. Let me be.”

“All right, _Cas_ , if you won’t let me label you, then don’t label yourself either. You’re not useless. You’re just—Cas. You’re going to be on bed rest for the next two months. I’d say lay off the drugs and sex for a while, but I doubt that’s going to happen. I’ll check on you every day.”

“Will you bring me soup every day?” Cas asks as Dean turns to leave.

Dean shakes his head like it’s a ridiculous request, but he knows it’s one he’s going to keep.

 

**2014\. Camp Chitaqua.**

Dean slams his shot glass on the desk and winces. He has a staring contest with the chaser.

“Go ahead, Dean. Take it. I know you want it.”

“Shut the fuck up and pour another.”

“You’re not going to win this game.”

Dean knows Cas is right. Even human, Cas can drink Dean under the table. But the thought of caving and drinking the chaser before he’s even reached double-digits is pathetic.

“What’s your record?” Dean asks after his ninth shot of vodka.

“Since I fell? Twenty-three, I think. Hard to remember seeing as I vomited four times and passed out for 21 hours. It’s actually incredible to what limits you can push a human body before it breaks.”

“Jesus, Cas,” Dean exclaims as he takes his tenth. 

“Don’t you have a meeting to lead tomorrow morning? How’s _that_ gonna go?” Eleven.

“Ugh, I’ll be fine. I’ve led plenty of those things completely hammered. Not worried about it.” Twelve.

“Really? You hide it well.” Thirteen.

“Been drinking a long time, buddy.” Fourteen.

“Probably not long enough, though. I had a lot of catching up to do in the past few years, and I think I've succeeded.” Fifteen.

Dean spills a little and chokes then, bringing tears to his eyes. He shakes it off and then finally drinks his chaser. “You win.”

“As usual.” 

“Do you get some sort of sick pleasure out of this?” Dean’s words all slur together, but Cas has no trouble understanding drunk Dean.

“Other than an absence of lucidity, no.”

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Currently? Yes, the room is spinning and you look like an idiot.”

“No, no. No, I mean are you enjoying the end of the world?”

Cas takes a moment to process the question. “Uh, I hadn’t really thought about it.”

“You know, with the whole—” Dean waves his hand in a circle in front of Cas, “blissed-out hippie thing you got goin’ on. That’s how you’re spending the end of the world?”

Cas leans back in his chair and puts his hands behind his head. “You know I hate labels, Dean.”

“Yeah, but you, you’re so…you fit so many stereotypes.”

“I don’t know whether to accept that as a compliment or an insult.”

“I’m just trying to figure you out, man. It used to be so easy. Cas-Castiel the robot with free will. Now it’s like—Cas the addict who just doesn’t give a fuck.”

Cas would probably be more affected by Dean’s words if he were sober. “And which do you prefer?” 

“I don’t care. The way I see it…it’s Cas versus no Cas, and as long as I’ve got Cas, I’m happy.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I talked to a lot of people about how many shots a human body can handle in a short amount of time, and I hope I'm not too far off the mark. I, personally, stop around six.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was one of the first chapters I wrote, and it was originally earlier in the story. So it's got more explanation than previous chapters.

**2012\. Houston. Camp Chitaqua. And everywhere else.**

“It’s starting.”

“Just like Chuck said it would.”

“Dean, I—”

“Forget it, Cas. It’s going to get really bad really quick. We gotta find that fucking gun.” 

“Well, we can start by rounding up whoever’s left and finding a safe place to camp,” Bobby cuts in.

They spend weeks looking for other hunters, rescuing people from Croatoan-ravaged towns, searching for a safe haven. When they finally find Camp Chitaqua, there are more than 150 people with them, and Dean has been appointed leader by default. He realizes very quickly that these people need a foundation, one built on bedrock, so he steels himself and becomes a cornerstone. He makes decisions when others can’t, shoots Croats without blinking, allows no emotion to reach his face. He is the ruthless machine his father raised him to be. 

It doesn’t slip past him that Cas gradually becomes his equal opposite. Cas gets stoned for the first time after news reaches the U.S. that half of Europe’s population has caught the virus. He gets blackout drunk for the first time when the last of his grace leaves his body. He snorts cocaine for the first time when they lose 20 of their own on a raid. 

Over time, Cas becomes careless where Dean is absolute, laidback where Dean is immovable, all decadence where Dean is all seriousness. He grows soft, curvy lines on his face from smiling while Dean grows hard, stoic lines from grief.

They don’t talk about it. They know what the other is doing. They see past the mask just as they have always done. They are two sides of the same coin, dealing with the end of the world by losing themselves the way they know how. 

In December, Bobby decides to move back home. He says he feels useless at the camp, and he could do a lot more with his resources around him. When Dean tells him it’s suicide, Bobby gives him a look that doesn’t allow Dean to argue. When he leaves, Dean waits a week of no contact before mourning his death. He goes to Cas’ cabin for the first time.

“Bobby’s dead,” he announces as he stumbles through the beads that act as Cas’ door.

“Yeah, probably,” Cas says without hesitation. “I think he wanted to die. Lucky bastard,” Cas murmurs as he pulls his clothes on and kicks a guy out of his bed.

“Are you sober?” Dean slurs.

“Generally no. I’d like to be as drunk as you, however,” Cas answers as he takes the bottle from Dean and drinks a generous amount. “To Bobby.”

“I wish…I wish you could take me there. Take me to Bobby’s house so I could see. So I could…know for sure.”

“If only. You should probably stay here with me tonight. You don’t want the others in the camp to see you like this.”

Dean looks out the door like he’s just remembered that there was a third person in the room five minutes ago.

“Don’t worry, Jamal is cool. He won’t think any differently of you.”

Dean relaxes a little, but then, “What are they gonna think when I leave your cabin tomorrow morning?”

“Dean, nobody gives a rat’s ass who comes in and out of my cabin.”

“Cas…what are we even doing?” Dean whispers as his eyes fall to the floor.

Cas steps closer and tilts his head down to get Dean’s eyes to come back up to his. When that doesn’t work, he lifts Dean’s chin with his index finger. “You’re saving the world, Dean. Bobby may have given up, but you don’t have to.” He moves toward his desk and sits, fills his pipe with weed. “I believe in you, Dean Winchester. No matter what it’s cost me,” he proclaims with a grin and an inhalation.

Dean finishes the bottle and falls onto Cas’ bed. He stares at the ceiling, listening to Cas’ inhalations and exhalations for several minutes. He’s learning to enjoy the smell of weed.

He feels Cas’ weight on the bed but doesn’t move. 

“You wanna get cross-buzzed?” Cas asks, still holding his pipe, which he must’ve refilled at some point.

“Nah, it makes me weird. Where do you think Bobby went?”

“I honestly have no idea. I imagine heaven is a giant hellhole right now. It’s possible they aren’t letting people in, which means people who die are trapped between dimensions, probably as ghosts.”

Dean is quiet for a long time, still staring at the ceiling. “What do you think happened to Sammy?”

Instead of answering, Cas crosses the room and comes back with a half-full bottle of gin. They drink in silence for a while, and when they finish, Cas lies down next to Dean and stares at the ceiling, too.

“Your brother was a good man. I was honored to call him friend.”

“He would be so disappointed in us if he saw us now, Cas.”

Cas laughs. “Apparently you and I are hopeless without Sam. Imagine that.”

Cas is surprised when Dean lets out a soft chuckle. “I can see him walking into this camp, seeing what we’ve become, and punching us both in the face.” 

“No, Dean, that’s what _you_ would do. Sam would give us that look, that perfect mixture of disappointment and affection and just a hint of pity and rage. He’d sit us down and ask us what’s going on, and then he’d talk us through it both logically and emotionally. We’d actually believe him by the end of it, too.” Cas turns slightly to see Dean’s reaction. Coincidentally the expression Cas just described as Sam’s is etched onto Dean’s face.

“I miss him so much, Cas. Why did I—why—I don’t even remember why we split up to begin with. I don’t remember ever being mad at him or disappointed in him. All I can remember is that I made the wrong decision and I should’ve called him and I—”

“Dean,” Cas interrupts, placing his hand on Dean’s thigh to calm him down. 

“I’m sorry, I…” Dean rolls over to his side and looks at Cas.

Pause.

“Do you remember when we met, and you and Bobby shot me like a dozen times?”

The small smile returns to Dean’s face. “Yeah, and then I gutted you, and you had this look on your face like you had never seen something so pathetic as me.” 

“I was trying to figure out why you were assaulting me. I still felt huge then, like my true form. I remember thinking, ‘Can’t he see my power? Can’t he see that I cannot be killed by human invention?’”

“I was…so scared, Cas. I could feel it, could feel that you were different. That you were the most powerful supernatural being I had yet to face.”

“I was not quite accustomed to my vessel yet truthfully. It felt as if I might burst out of poor Jimmy Novak at any moment.”

“Was it weird, being in there with a person?”

“No, it’s not like that. The only weird part was containing my grace, and I got past that after a few months.”

Dean hears the sadness in Cas’ voice at the mention of his grace, so he decides to change the subject. They do this all night, swapping stories, remembering a better past that wasn’t even all that great to begin with. Dean tells Cas old hunting stories while Cas tells Dean even older angel stories. Cas eventually flips on his side, too, and they lie face-to-face like it’s normal. When Dean starts to feel sober, he leaves and tells Cas to try to get some sleep. Cas doesn’t mention that he can’t sleep without another body in his bed. 

Neither of them sleeps at all. Nobody sees Dean return to his own cabin just before daylight. Nobody’s there when Dean soberly cries over Bobby’s apparent death. When they all gather for a meeting over breakfast, the hardness has returned to Dean’s face. The goofy smile has returned to Cas’.

Repeat.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Issues of consent in this chapter. Not with sex, but cuddling without permission happens and causes problems.

**2013\. Camp Chitaqua.**  

“Dean been taking care of you?”

“What do you care?”

“I don’t, just making small talk, geez. _Some_ body’s sensitive about a certain handsome straight man.”

Cas would’ve kicked anybody else out of his bed by now, but he likes Isabelle. He sleeps with her more often than with anybody else, and she’s never slept with Dean as far as he knows.

“Dean and I have a very long, painful history. I would never sleep with him.”

“All right, sure. Let’s pretend I buy that. We all see him coming in and out of here every day to take care of your foot. People are gonna start talking.”

“What? He just comes to check on me. It’s not a big deal.” 

“Yeah, ‘cause the heartless leader of our camp just takes care of everybody that gets sick or hurt. He totally has time for that. C’mon, Cas.”

“Dean’s not heartless,” Cas protests softly.

“Really? That’s what you got out of that? _Be_ a little more in love with him, why don’t you?”

“Think whatever you want. I don’t care. Just—don’t spread rumors, please.”

“Cas caring what people say about him? Wow, I never thought I’d see the day.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Dean’s the one who cares.”

Isabelle’s eyebrows raise so high that Cas has to stop looking at her to hide his blush.

“So Cas, you gonna fuck me or should I call Dean in here?”

 

“Is Cas OK?”

Dean looks at Crystal like she’s just asked about his mom. Or Sam.

“I mean, I’ve seen you checking in on him. I figured it’s pretty serious if he requires your personal attention.” She’s digging a deeper hole for herself.

“Get out.” 

“What? Are you serious?”

“I didn’t ask you here to talk. I asked you here to fuck, and now I’m not in the mood for that, so get out.”

Crystal rolls her eyes and happily heads out of Dean’s cabin.

  

“It’s almost completely healed now,” Cas announces as Dean inspects his foot one night.

“That’s good. I’ve missed you on raids.”

Cas doesn’t react. 

“You going to be more careful now?” Dean continues.

“Probably not.”

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“Well, one of us has to be. It’s the end, baby. Why not go out with a bang.”

There’s a question in Dean’s eyes when he looks at Cas. It disappears after a moment.

“What do you think’s going to happen? When all this is over?” Dean asks instead as he crawls up next to Cas and lies down.

“We’re all going to have a big party in hell with lots of sex and drugs, because we won’t be able to get into heaven, earth will be destroyed, and there’s enough of us to take on the demons that are left.”

Dean chuckles. “You’re an idiot.”

“Says the man who almost got himself killed on a raid recently because he saw pie for the first time in a year.”

“Great, now I’m thinking about pie. Thanks, jackass.”

“You know, this apocalypse has done wonders for your shape. There used to be a layer of fat here,” Cas says as he lifts Dean’s shirt slightly and pats the tight, flat skin.

“Yeah, well, I’d rather have pie,” Dean complains as he slaps Cas’ hand away and self-consciously pulls his shirt back down. “And thanks for calling me fat.” 

“You’re welcome.”

It’s a good night. Dean isn’t drunk. Cas isn’t high. They talk and laugh until Dean can’t hold his eyes open anymore. He falls asleep facing Cas.

Cas knows Dean will be mad when he wakes up in the morning, but he doesn’t have the heart to kick him out. It’s been years since Cas saw Dean sleep, and the warmth that washes over him when he sees how peaceful Dean looks makes it impossible for him to wake him up. 

When Cas gets off the bed, Dean rolls over to his other side and curls in on himself. Cas strips off his shirt and pants and finds a clean blanket in his closet before crawling into bed next to Dean. He puts a generous amount of space and a pillow between them.

It’s the best night of sleep he’s gotten since—well, since he started sleeping.

When Dean wakes up in the morning, he panics for a moment before he remembers where he is. Then, when he remembers where he is, he _really_ panics.

His first instinct is to sneak out of Cas’ cabin as quickly as possible. But…his second, more appealing instinct is to curl closer to Cas than he already is. He’s sure Cas didn’t orchestrate this, but somehow sometime in the night Dean ended up spooning the angel. So instead of running out immediately, Dean pushes his body into Cas’ back and breathes in deeply at Cas’ neck. He wraps his arm around his stomach and buries his face in Cas’ hair.

Cas begins to stir, instinctively scoots back against Dean, places his arm over Dean’s and sighs contentedly. 

“You awake?” Dean whispers.

No response.

“Cas?”

Dean waits until Cas’ breathing gets heavy with sleep again. Then he slowly moves his arm out from underneath Cas’ and rubs it all along Cas’ stomach. Cas is basically skin and bones, but he’s soft and pliant and warm beneath Dean’s touch. Dean worships his hips, his chest, his navel before making his way down the side of his leg, pressing all the way down toward his knee. Cas shivers but remains still.

Dean then places his hand on Cas’ shoulder and pulls the blanket back a little. He nuzzles his face into Cas’ neck and lands a soft kiss on the warm skin.

Oh no. That was a mistake. 

Dean can’t stop. He lavishes kisses all over Cas’ shoulders, neck, back. They start light and innocent and progress into biting and sucking and licking.

He realizes too late what he’s done. Cas wakes up and flips over, looks at Dean with a smile on his face, but it turns into confused hurt after a moment.

“I-I’m sorry, I…I don’t know what—” Dean doesn’t know what he’s trying to say, so he stumbles out of Cas’ bed and practically runs for the door.

“Dean, wait!”

Dean doesn’t listen. 

What would he have said anyway? _I woke up and took advantage of you while you were asleep? I took what I wanted without your permission because I’m too much of a fucking coward to ask you properly? I’m sorry I ruined everything?_

Cas doesn’t get out of bed. Whenever anybody comes near his cabin, he shouts at them to leave. He starts drinking before noon. He blacks out by 3 p.m.

 

**2012\. Nowhere, Kentucky.**

“We’ll camp here for now, head back at 7 tomorrow morning. Everybody’s gonna need to find somebody to bunk with and pick a room before the sun goes down. Remember to keep your weapons close by and ward your rooms carefully. Cas and Bobby and I will be coming around to check on all of you in a couple hours.”

Once Dean has given the order, everybody disperses. Cas and Bobby stay at Dean’s side, waiting for their own instruction.

“You’re doing the right thing, kid,” Bobby says once everybody’s out of earshot.

“Yeah, well, tell that to the six people we lost today.”

“I hate to say it, but you better get used to it,” Bobby answers with as much sympathy in his voice as he can muster. “This ain’t gonna be easy. Now let’s find rooms for us in this dump.”

They found an abandoned motel to stay after a particularly nasty raid. It was the most Croats they had seen since the infection started to spread. They weren’t exactly prepared for it.

Bobby insists on staying in a room by himself, which leaves Cas and Dean to figure out where to stay. Of course the only room left has a queen-sized bed instead of doubles.

“I would say go ahead and take the bed, I don’t need sleep, but we both know that’s a lie nowadays,” Cas comments while they both stare at the bed.

“I call the side closest to the door,” Dean says. “I’m gonna go check on the floor above us, can you get this one?” 

“Yes, Dean.”

Dean returns to the room an hour later to find Cas fast asleep under the covers. He puts off getting in bed himself for as long as possible, which means that he’s fairly drunk when he passes out on top of the bedspread. 

When Dean wakes up in the morning, he can’t move because his and Cas’ legs got tangled in the night.

“Dude. Cas. Buddy, wake up. Cas. Cas.” Dean smiles at how ridiculous Cas looks, slack-jawed and disheveled with both his hands folded against his cheek, smashing his face in a way that looks cartoonish. Dean says his name a few more times before giving up and smacking his cheek.

“Ow, what the fuck?” Cas exclaims as he rubs his face.

“Sorry. I couldn’t move. Our legs…”

“I should just lock you in place as retribution.” Cas clamps his calves around Dean’s to make his point.

“Pretty sure you can’t hold me here forever.” 

Cas rubs the sleep out of his eyes and yawns loudly. “It’s too early for this.”

“For what?”

“Being awake.”

Dean tries to move again, but Cas isn’t allowing it.

“Dude, seriously, c’mon,” Dean says halfheartedly, laughing.

“Make me.” 

Dean glares at Cas, who glares right back in challenge. Dean takes it, reaching forward quickly to pinch Cas’ thighs. Cas practically jumps out of his skin and releases Dean’s legs, but he gets a hold of Dean’s arm before he can get out of bed. Cas yanks him down and swings his leg over his waist, but before he can straddle him Dean grabs his leg and pins it back to the bed. Cas strikes Dean in the solar plexus and laughs as the hunter collapses in on himself. It gives him just enough time to wrap his thighs around Dean’s waist and lock his ankles behind Dean’s back. He squeezes until he feels Dean’s ribs start to give.

“Jesus, Cas, don’t—kill—me,” Dean barely gets out as he digs his elbows into Cas’ thighs in an attempt to loosen them.

Cas reaches up and grabs the collar of Dean’s shirt with both of his hands, pulls him forward and off balance, and flips both of them completely over.

Dean is on his back now and Cas is straddling him and pinning Dean’s wrists above his head.

“Wipe that smirk off your face, Cas, you haven’t won yet.”

“I would just—”

Before Cas can finish his victory speech, Dean all at once maneuvers to his side, pushes his body backwards, and throws his arms to catch Cas off balance.

“Motherfu—” Cas starts, but he’s cut off when Dean pushes his face into the bed.

Dean sits on Cas’ back and holds the back of his head with one hand. Before he can claim victory, there’s a knock on the door.

“Gon’ be late, boys,” Bobby calls from outside.

Dean and Cas immediately jump off the bed and get out of the room as quickly as possible. They don’t say a word to each other on their way out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When Cas squeezes his thighs into Dean's ribs, that's the [guard position](https://www.google.com/search?q=guard+position&client=firefox-a&hs=hie&rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&channel=fflb&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ei=Ix5VVJ20C4meyQTjy4CACg&ved=0CAgQ_AUoAQ). When he flips them over and straddles Dean, that's the [mount position](https://www.google.com/search?q=guard+position&client=firefox-a&hs=hie&rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&channel=fflb&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ei=Ix5VVJ20C4meyQTjy4CACg&ved=0CAgQ_AUoAQ#rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&channel=fflb&tbm=isch&q=mount+position). Also, Dean would have to pinch Cas' INNER thighs to cause any pain teehee.
> 
> Also, making Dean lose his pudge goes against everything I believe in and it's not something I support.


	6. Chapter 6

**2013\. Camp Chitaqua.**

“What happened?”

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

“I’ve slept here the past three nights, Cas. Sure, you’re acting the same as usual, but you never go _three days_ without a visit from Dean. So tell me what happened.” Isabelle pulls her tank top and shorts on and moves off Cas’ bed to demonstrate her seriousness.

Cas rubs his eyes and stays in bed. “If I tell you this, and it gets out, I’m never giving you any Grey Goose again, all right?”

“Deal,” Isabelle responds without hesitation.

“Dean slept over the other night. No, it wasn’t like that. He just fell asleep in my bed and I didn’t kick him out. But, uh, when I woke up in the morning, he, uh—I caught him kissing my back. Like, a lot.”

“Oh my god.”

“Yeah, so he panicked and ran out.”

“How do you feel about it? I mean, did you feel…violated?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. When I first woke up, I thought, um, that I was waking up how I always wanted to wake up. Please don’t make fun of me. I’ll stop pretending like you don’t know how I feel about Dean.”

“Finally.”

“It’s just…he would only do it when I was asleep. It’s not how I imagined it happening. He only took what he wanted when he thought I wouldn’t find out.” 

Pause.

“I’ve been pining after Dean for…five years now pretty much. It’s frustrating knowing he’s felt the same way for most of that time but won’t fucking do anything about it.”

“How come _you_ don’t do anything about it?”

“I would, but…Dean wouldn’t want that. Dean likes taking the initiative. He likes making the decisions. He wouldn’t respond well if it wasn’t his choice.”

“All right, well you should talk to him. Like, soon. I know you’re mad at him, but get over it.”

Cas rolls his eyes and flips over to go back to sleep. He’s not going to initiate anything with Dean. If Dean wants to fix things, he’ll be the one to bring it up. It’s not up to Cas to decide.

 

After a week, Dean can’t take it anymore. He can’t stand not speaking to Cas. He can’t stand the way the angel’s eyes drive nails into him when they have to be in the same room together. He resigns himself to just fucking talk to the guy.

There’s a meeting in Dean’s cabin one afternoon, and he calls for Cas to stay behind once people start to leave. Cas acts like he might just ignore him, but that would look terrible in front of everyone. Nobody ever disobeys Dean.

Once they’re alone, Cas sighs loudly and slouches unattractively in a chair as far away from Dean as possible.

“Look, I know you don’t want to talk to me—”

“Really? You know what I want and don’t want, Dean? Please, tell me more.”

“I’m not—I, uh—”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t get that.”

Dean turns his back on Cas and closes his eyes, reminds himself that he can’t get frustrated because he deserves a lot worse from his friend.

“I’m sorry, Cas. I don’t know what…I was doing—or thinking. It was stupid, and I’m sorry.”

Cas says nothing. 

“Can we just…go back to the way things were? Please?” Dean can’t help the break in his voice. “I miss you, man.” 

“That’s what you want? To go back to the way things were? Pretend like nothing happened?” Cas gets up and walks around so he can see Dean’s face.

Dean nods curtly.

“Fine.”

Dean meets Cas’ eyes and doesn’t bother hiding his hopeful gaze.

“No more sleepovers, though,” Cas says before walking out the door.

Dean sighs with relief, then adjusts his face into war mode and follows Cas out.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**2014\. Camp Chitaqua.**

People in the camp start to whisper. Several of them have seen Dean leaving Cas’ cabin most early mornings. The women all discover that none of them have had sex with Dean in weeks, months even. Cas never goes to Dean’s cabin, and they never show any sort of affection in front of anyone, but rumors still begin to spread. Especially when there’s a smile plastered on Dean’s face on occasion as he’s walking back to his own cabin. Smiles on Dean Winchester’s face went extinct long before anyone in the camp joined.

“Uh, Dean?”

“Yeah, Chuck, come on in.” 

Chuck hesitantly walks through the door, hesitantly takes a seat in a chair opposite Dean’s bed. Dean is lacing up his boots and loading his guns.

“Um, I, um…”

“Spit it out, Chuck. I’m not gonna bite.”

“People have been asking…about you and Cas, and they asked me if I would—”

“Ask me why I hang out in Cas’ cabin at night?” Dean knew this day would come, but his heart still beats mercilessly against his ribcage as he feels the rock begin to crumble, the foundation begin to shake.

“Well yeah.”

“We’re not fucking. We just talk and drink, and Cas shoots up. That’s it.”

Chuck looks slightly disappointed once he realizes that Dean’s telling the truth. “OK, that’s what I’ll tell everyone.”

“Hey, Chuck?” Dean calls before Chuck can get out the door. “Can you tell Cas to come over here, please?”

“Sure thing, boss.”

Cas shows up 15 minutes later. 

“What have you been telling people?” Dean asks more sternly than he intended.

“Uhhh lies about my past and bullshit about inner peace?”

“I mean about us, dumbass. Do you know about the rumors?”

Realization lands on Cas’ face. “Oh. I guess people sometimes care who comes in and out of my cabin then.”

“So you hadn’t heard anything?”

“What are people saying? That you and I are…?”

“Yeah. Chuck came and asked me about it. I told him the truth. I suggest you do the same if anyone brings it up. I…I don’t need this right now. We’re _so_ close, Cas. So close to finding the Colt. I have to be…grounded.”

“I understand.” Cas offers a small smile before leaving Dean’s cabin.

 

Dean stops going to Cas’ cabin completely.

 

Cas nearly overdoses twice before Dean cleans his stash and helps him through an extremely long and painful detox. Cas shouts profanities and lies at Dean whenever he’s lucid enough to speak. He tells him the opposite of what he means.

You’ll never win, Dean. 

You always do the wrong things, Dean. 

You’ve lost yourself completely, Dean.

You’re scum of the earth, asshole.

Your brother would kill you if he saw the monster you’ve become, you piece of shit.

Nobody could ever love something so vile as you, fucking sellout. 

I’ll never forgive you for this, Dean.

I hate you.

 

Dean feigns sleep on Cas’ floor for a couple hours every night. Enough time to let tears stream down his face.

One, two, three. 

 

**2012\. Camp Chitaqua.**

“Where did you even get that, dude?” 

“I have my resources,” Cas responds as he inhales deeply and fills the room with smoke.

“I can’t believe I’m watching fricking Cas smoking reefer. This really is the end of the world.”

“Sorry I’m failing to live up to your expectations, Dean.”

“Nah, it’s not that at all. I’m happy to see you relax a little. Maybe this’ll take that stick out of your ass.”

“I don’t have a stick up my—” 

“Just a phrase, Cas.”

Cas continues to smoke, choking several times before he’s high. Dean can do nothing but sit and watch, thinking about the horrible events that led to Cas’ need for escape.

“Hey, Cas?” 

“Yes, Dean?” 

“Um, just, uh, be careful, all right?”

“I don’t understand.”

“With—with drugs. You’ve never had them before, and…it’s really easy to get addicted and, uh, do stupid things that could get you killed for no reason.”

A wide grin spills across Cas’ face. “I’m an angel. I’m not too worried about some marijuana.”

Dean’s heart is too broken to tell Cas that he’s significantly more human now than he was a year ago. He knows Cas knows, but Cas won’t _believe_. 

Instead, Dean says, “I know, but it’s still dangerous. I know I’m not one to talk about addictions, but somebody has to look out for you, you know? All I’m asking is that you be careful. Please. For me? Don’t screw up too bad? I mean, uh, I, um, I need you. I-I can’t think about losing you to some stupid fucking drugs.”

“You’re not going to lose me, Dean,” Cas says, setting the pipe down. “I’m not going anywhere.”

 

 **2014\. Camp Chitaqua.**  

Cas eventually gets better, and Dean ensures that he only has access to “safe” drugs in the future.

Cas never attempts to apologize for his behavior. He knows Dean wouldn’t listen anyway.

Dean and Cas stop interacting completely. The rumors stop.

Dean gets so close to finding the Colt he begins to taste victory. 

But then.

“Come again?”

“I’m you, from the tail end of 2009. Zach plucked me from my bed and threw me five years into the future.”

 


	8. Chapter 8

Dean doesn’t need this. This—this wide-eyed, cocky version of himself. Full of hope and arrogance like his life’s been some fucking walk on the beach. The sooner 2009 Dean leaves, the better.

When he cuffs him, he knows he’ll get out. He’s not an idiot. He’s hoping 2009 Dean escapes and disappears. Forever. 

 

“Hey, Chuck, is Cas still here?”

“Yeah. I don’t think Cas is going anywhere.”

Dean’s heart thrums in anticipation when he hears Cas’ voice through the beaded door. It sounds different, but it’s still Cas.

He looks different, too. But Dean can tell it’s an act. Which, if Cas is capable of putting on an act, then the world has definitely rocked his innocence in the past five years. Dean deflates a little at the thought.

“What are you, a hippie?”

“We’ve gotten over trying to label me.” 

“Cas, we gotta talk.”

“Whoa, strange.”

“What?”

“You—are not you, not now you anyway.”

“No! Yes, yeah, exactly.”

“What year are you from?”

“2009.”

“Who did this to you? Was it Zachariah?”

“Yes.”

“Interesting.”

“Oh yeah, it’s freaking fascinating. Now, why don’t you strap on your angel wings and fly me back to my page on the calendar?” 

“I wish I could just, uh, strap on my wings, but uh, I’m sorry, no dice.” 

“What are you, stoned?”

“Generally, yeah.”

“What happened to you?”

“Life." 

Dean sees something in this Cas he doesn’t know, something…broken. Something missing.

“Hey, uh, what happened to…us?” 

Cas’ brow furrows, replacing the fake smile. “Absolutely nothing.”

“N-nothing? What do you mean?”

“What do _you_ mean?”

Dean steps forward and reaches his hand out, but he stops when Cas recoils.

“Oh my god,” Dean whispers. 

“What?” Cas sounds slightly annoyed.

“Um, sorry, I, uh,” Dean mumbles as he heads backwards out the door.

 

Dean sits anxiously in his other self’s cabin as he waits for him to return.

“Wow. You got out and stayed? I’m surprised,” he says as he sets his duffel on the table.

“Yeah, um, we need to talk.”

Dean rolls his eyes but sits and looks at his past self once he grasps the seriousness of the situation. 

“What is it? I don’t have all day.”

“I went to Cas’ cabin.”

2014 Dean shifts uncomfortably and averts his eyes.

“Oh. Cas was lying,” Dean says under his breath.

“What? What the hell are you talking about?” 

“To what extent are we and Cas involved?”

“Look, _Dean_ , I don’t have time for this. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the world is going up in flames and I have a very important mission to plan that could save it, and—”

“You can’t fool me, dude. I’m you, remember? I don’t give a rat’s ass if the world’s ending—that wouldn’t stop us from being in love with Cas. Now tell me you did something about it.”

“I…no. I haven’t done anything about it.”

“That’s impossible.”

“What?”

“I said that’s impossible. I did something about it no less than 24 hours ago, back in 2009. I’ve still got the hickeys to prove it. I’m telling you, man, Castiel is back in my motel room right now, probably wondering where the fuck I went. Probably thinking I hightailed and ran after the night we had.”

2014 Dean goes into shock for half a minute and then spends another minute and a half processing what he just heard. “You’re lying.”

“You would know if I was. And you know I’m not.”

“I didn’t…I never—Cas and I have never even kissed. We barely even touch.”

“Jesus Christ. We’re changing the timeline already.”

“Excuse me?”

“We—I can change this. All of this. I’m already doing things that you never did, making decisions you never made. This isn’t my future, this is a shitty alternate reality. Sorry to break it to you, bud, but you’re not real. Not in my universe at least. This is actually good news for you, though. Forget the end of the world, go make out with Cas before you disappear from existence altogether.”

He stares at his past self for a long time, trying to figure out if this is some elaborate joke. Finally he shakes his head, curses, and heads for the door. He hears past Dean following him.

“Hey. Hey! Listen to me!” 

Dean spins around and pins his past self to a cabin wall, hiding him from view so he doesn’t have to explain this to his camp.

“Look, this is my time, not yours. I make the decisions. Nobody asked you to be here.”

2014 Dean cringes at the pity he sees in his own eyes. He would prefer rage. “I know you want to go see him. It’s not going to hurt, dude. It’ll take no time at all. I know he’s changed a lot, but he’s still Cas. He’s as likely to stop loving you as you are to stop loving him. I promise.” 

The sincerity drives into Dean’s chest. Hope burns like it doesn’t belong in him. “Stay in the cabin or I’ll shoot you and see who’s real then.”

2009 Dean obeys only because he knows he’s won.


	9. Chapter 9

**2009\. Kansas City, Century Hotel, room 113.**

“I’ll be there immediately.”

“Wait, Cas, I—oh, whatever, come on over.”

Dean doesn’t move off his bed when the angel appears. “Listen, Cas, you can be here but I gotta get some sleep. Just give me four hours.”

Dean is surprised when Cas doesn’t argue and simply moves to sit on the edge of the bed.

“All right, slightly creepy, but whatever.”

Dean is not so surprised when he falls asleep easily knowing Cas is in the room. When his brother calls, Cas pretends not to listen to their conversation.

“Cas, am I doing the right thing?” he asks after hanging up.

Cas walks over to Dean and stands too close. “Honestly, I don’t know. I have full confidence in you, though, Dean.”

“Why?” Dean blurts without thinking.

“You’re…different. You’ve been through so much, and yet have so much to live for. Your ability to succeed is truly unmatched.”

Dean brushes off the comment with a laugh, continues drinking his beer.

Cas doesn’t know how to convey his sincerity, so he copies what he’s seen Dean do and places a hand on his shoulder.

Dean turns his head and finds Cas’ eyes. Instinct takes over and he takes Cas’ hand off his shoulder and presses his face into the angel’s palm. He closes his eyes and breathes heavily.

“Tell me what you need from me, Dean.”

Dean drops his beer and wraps his arm around Cas’ waist. He pulls him close and breathes in his scent.

Apparently Cas has some instinct, too, because he brings his other hand up to cup Dean’s face completely. Their foreheads knock together and their eyes close.

“Physical touch is…one of my favorite aspects of humanity,” Cas whispers.

“Let me show you how good it can be.” Dean curses himself for the tremble in his voice.

“Please.”

Dean wraps Cas closer, places his other hand on the angel’s chest, and leans in for a kiss.

Dean smiles against Cas’ mouth when he hears the angel’s breath hitch. After a few seconds of trying to get him to open up, however, he realizes that Cas has no idea what he’s supposed to be doing.

“It’s a kiss, buddy. Move those hooker lips of yours.” 

Cas learns fast after that. His lips move rapidly over Dean’s, sucking his bottom lip, biting his top lip, sliding his tongue in Dean’s mouth once he feels Dean’s in his own. 

He tries to take purchase in Dean’s hair, has to curl his hand around the back of Dean’s neck instead. Dean tries to push him toward the bed, but Cas responds by shoving him back into the fridge. Cas starts working furiously, running his hands down Dean’s back, grabbing his ass, rucking his T-shirt up to get to his skin. Dean feels himself getting excruciatingly hard, and when Cas notices, he bucks his hips up against Dean to demonstrate his own arousal.

Dean breaks the kiss to catch his breath, rests his head back against the fridge. Cas takes advantage of his bared neck and begins to lavish wet kisses on it.

“Suck,” Dean pleads.

“What?”

“Suck! The skin on my neck, it’ll feel better if you suck.”

Cas gets it then, and soon enough he’s biting into Dean’s collarbone, tearing at the collar of Dean’s shirt to get his mouth lower and lower—

“Bed,” Dean demands.

Cas doesn’t listen or doesn’t hear him, so Dean reaches behind his thighs and lifts him up, forcing Cas to drape both arms over Dean’s shoulders and meet his lips again.

It’s difficult stripping Cas’ trench coat off him once he’s on the bed, but Dean refuses to let Cas angel-away their clothes. Cas doesn’t seem to want to, either, seeing as he’s just thrown Dean’s flannel across the room and is now tearing through his T-shirt. 

“Dean.”

“Yeah?” Dean answers while fumbling with Cas’ fly. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Don’t do anything. You’ll like this, I promise.”

Dean’s never done a blow job before, but he’s watched enough gay porn and has imagined this scenario too many times to be bad at this. Once he’s gotten Cas completely naked, he rubs his hands up and down his thighs (and goddamn, does Cas have some nice thighs), presses his fingers into the muscle, works his way underneath to Cas’ ass and squeezes. Cas clenches and bucks up.

“Shh, calm down, I got you,” Dean soothes.

Cas relaxes a bit, but his breathing stays erratic.

“I’m going to touch you, bud. It’s going to feel really good, but you need to be ready for it, all right?”

“Yes,” Cas barely gets out. Dean can see the veins in Cas’ forearms as he holds onto the sheets for dear life. Dean’s never seen anything so hot in his entire life.

Dean wets three of his fingers with his own saliva and very carefully traces Cas’ shaft. Cas shivers but remains still. He takes a sharp inhale when Dean’s fingers make their way to his balls.

“All right, Cas, don’t panic. I’m about to use my mouth. Just…breathe,” Dean says with a huge smile on his face. He can’t believe how taken apart Cas looks.

Dean starts with light kisses, then licks, then slowly takes Cas in his mouth. He digs his nails into Cas’ thighs as he moves in a slow rhythm up and down, trying his hardest to keep the angel pinned to the bed. Cas’ hands find his hair and nearly rip all of it out. 

Cas shouts what Dean assumes are profanities in Enochian right before he comes. Dean spits into a nearby trash can and then crawls up next to Cas, who’s still on his back and in shock as he stares blankly at the ceiling.

“Thank you, Dean,” he says after several minutes.

Dean laughs and throws his arm over Cas’ chest and begins drawing circles on his skin. “You were great, Cas.”

“When should I return the favor?”

Dean buries himself into Cas’ side and nuzzles his face into his chest. “Put your arm around me.”

“This is hardly the level of pleasure you just gave me.”

“This is different. This is all I want right now. Just—be quiet and let me sleep.”

“OK, Dean.”

“Cas?”

“Yes, Dean?”

“Please don’t leave me.”

 

**2014\. Camp Chitaqua.**

“What did Dean—the other Dean—what did he say to you?” Dean asks forcefully as soon as he’s inside Cas’ cabin. He ignores the group of women that scurry past him. 

“Nothing. He wanted me to zap him back to 2009.” Cas sounds tired, like he’s reaching the end of his rope.

“He didn’t—he didn’t, uh, mention anything?”

Cas turns a quizzical look on the man he stopped calling friend several weeks ago. “Why? What did he say to you?”

Dean shakes his head and starts to move. “Nothing, it’s—nothing. Forget I said anything.”

“Dean.” 

That wasn’t unlabeled drug addict Cas speaking. That was Castiel, angel of the Lord. Dean has no choice but to stop in his tracks. 

“Tell me what he said to you.”

Cas stares into the back of Dean’s head, hoping beyond hope that he can will him to turn around.

Cas barely has time to register what’s happening when Dean _does_ turn. He doesn’t know how to react when Dean walks with a purpose toward him. He stands stock still for what feels like an eternity when Dean’s mouth crashes into his own.

“Dean, what are you—”

“You’re the only reason why I made it this long.”

Dean pushes everything off Cas’ desk and lifts the angel onto it.

“I should’ve done this five years ago.”

Dean snakes his hand under Cas’ shirt and lifts it over his head in one swift motion.

“I’m not going to win this war without you.”

Dean marks every inch of Cas’ skin he can reach with his mouth.

“I don’t give a damn if you’re useful or not.”

Dean takes Cas’ face in his hands and gently presses his lips to the angel’s.

“You’re just Cas. _My_ Cas.”

Dean slips his tongue into Cas’ mouth and pushes all of his emotions into the kiss.

“You’re the only person left who knows me.”

Dean nips at Cas’ ear and wraps him in a tight embrace. 

“I love you,” Cas breathes into Dean’s shoulder before returning the hug.

Dean runs his hand through Cas’ hair.

“I love _you_. I always have,” Dean answers.

 


	10. Chapter 10

**2009\. Right outside room 113.**

“That’s not how it’s going to happen.”

“Excuse me?”

“You put me there for no reason, Zach. That’s not my future.”

“I don’t expect you to know how time travel works, _Dean_ , but I don’t just create universes to throw you in. This is _real_. _That’s_ going to be your life if you don’t—”

The door opens to reveal a very panic-stricken Cas. He relaxes once he sees Dean.

“Sorry, Cas. Zach was just leaving.” Dean doesn’t even steal a glance at Zachariah before taking Cas’ hand and pulling him back into the room.

“Where did he take you?” Cas asks as they both sit on the edge of the bed.

“2014. But, uh, he screwed up.” 

“I don’t under—”

“I mean, it’s not like I get how time travel works, but future me and you never…you know.” 

Cas figures it out after a few beats. “It was as if last night never occurred?” 

“Yeah. You know, uh, yeah, we…” Dean chuckles. “We were a wreck, dude. There’s no way I’m letting that future happen.” He puts his hand palm up on the bed and Cas understands to take it, even going so far as to lace their fingers together. They share shy smiles.

“What exactly…was it like?”

“Let’s just say I’m never letting you near a needle.” Dean doesn’t expect Cas to understand, but the way Cas’ face crumbles in disappointment says otherwise. “And, um, I was…ruthless. I didn’t like what I saw, let’s leave it at that. It’s not going to happen. I’ll call my brother now and everything will change, I promise.”

Dean starts to get up, but Cas still has his hand.

“Dean.”

“Yeah?”

Cas leans over and kisses Dean’s lips very lightly. Dean feels his body heat up like he’s 15 again and kissing is a big deal. 

“Don’t ever leave again,” Cas pleads.

Dean places his hand on Cas’ cheek and rubs in circles with his thumb. Cas pushes into the touch, eyes closed.

“I’m not going anywhere, Castiel.” 

 

**2014\. Camp Chitaqua.**

“He said what?”

“That none of this is real. We’re like in an alternate reality or something.”

“That’s preposterous.”

“I know…but it’s comforting to think it’s not the end of the world somewhere.”

“I suppose. The only thing _I’m_ jealous of is that the other Dean made his move five entire years ago.” Cas scoots his body up so his head is nestling in Dean’s neck instead of his chest. “He’s got more guts than you apparently.”

“Hey, asshole, I’ve had a lot on my plate.” Dean pulls Cas closer to his side and ruffles his hair. 

Cas arches his back and presses a wet kiss into Dean’s neck. “Yeah, well, end of the world or not, I’m never letting you leave this bed again.” He wraps his arm tightly around Dean’s bare chest and squeezes.

“Dude, you don’t have to hold me hostage. Your blow jobs will keep me here forever, trust me.” Dean covers Cas’ arm with his own and distractedly runs his fingers along it.

“Told you I was the best in the camp.”

“Yeah, wish I had listened earlier. C’mere.” Dean pulls Cas’ whole body onto his chest and works his hands up and down Cas’ back.

“Dean Winchester, you are a slut for physical contact.” Cas nudges his nose against Dean’s.

“Shut up and kiss me.”

 

When Cas wakes up the next day to the feel of Dean’s lips on his back, he decides that the end of the world isn’t really that big of a deal after all.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm [deancasheadcanons](http://deancasheadcanons.tumblr.com/) on tumblr, and [this is my website.](https://maddmadeshop.com/)


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